A Change in Heart
by ncronan
Summary: Harry Potter realizes his true feelings for a certain girl just before his fifth year at Hogwarts. Of course, there's a problem (as there always is); his attention is sought by others. With a crushing Ginny, a jealous Ron, a devious Sirius and an ignorant Hermione, Harry Potter's fifth year will prove to be very interesting indeed.{AU}{OotP}{Harry/Multi}{NOT a Harem story!}


**Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to the Harry Potter franchise. I'm just playing in the sandbox that J. K. Rowling has so kindly let us use.**

**-Chapter One-**

"**I'm for whatever gets you through the night." - Frank Sinatra**

Harry Potter was given the Walkman within ten minutes of his arrival at Headquarters.

It was a curious little grey thing, with a large plastic pocket in the front that was for something called a 'cassette'. It was about the size of his palm, and he had little to no idea as to what he would do with it. Hermione had explained (after he'd calmed down from his shouting rant) that he could get a 'cassette tape', put it in the slot, plug in headphones or speakers and listen to music. And while he was very, very grateful that his friend had gotten him a gift, he'd never had much interest in music, and so just set it on the stand next to his bed in the room he shared with Ron. He reflected that he would have to go out sometime and get something to listen to, to at least honor Hermione's good intentions.

However, as he turned the idea over again in his mind, he realized how little he'd probably see of the outside world. After all; he was used to being kept in the dark about virtually everything in the world that mattered most to him. But the fact that he was used to it did not justify the ignorance he was forced into due to Dumbledore's manipulation.

Harry's fingers clenched slightly as he thought of the Headmaster, although his mind told him to calm down. The man who'd forced him into a dark corner where he could be told nothing, where he could only wallow in the dull ache from the loss of a friend.

A quiet 'hoot' woke him from his deep thoughts, and he glanced at the white bird perched in her cage on a desk. She cocked her head to the side, intelligent eyes glittering, prompting Harry to get up from his tense position at the edge of his bed and feed her. As he did, he stroked her feathers softly, murmuring a quiet apology for how he had acted with her at his relatives' home. She responded with another quiet hoot and nudged his fingers with her beak.

The exchange between Harry and his companion was interrupted when Ron popped his head in the room. "Hey, mate. Fred and George've got some Extendable Ears. Come on."

Ron had grown considerably taller, but had also thinned out, as though he were just being pulled from both ends. As a result, his limbs seemed long and spidery, and his torso very thin. Because of his height, he often had to incline his head as to avoid getting a concussion, and this gave Harry the impression that his best mate was a bird, although Harry knew that Ron was more ravenous than birds when it came to food.

Harry quickly set the rest of Hedwig's meal at her feet and hurried out the door, eager to hear what's going on in the kitchen. In the hallway, five witches and wizards were leaning over the railing, one of which was holding the end of what looked like a string. Harry (who couldn't find a space to lean over into) awkwardly leaned over Hermione, only realizing now that he was several inches taller than her.

He hadn't properly looked at Hermione since he'd been greeted into Headquarters. And although Harry was above and behind her, he could already see that she'd grown quite a lot physically. Specifically, from what he could see, Harry found that her buttocks . . .

Harry snapped to attention as Fred cursed, saying that they'd put a charm on the door, and so Hermione straightened and backed up. Catching Harry off guards, he stumbled back but encompassed her body with his arms. She gave a little gasp and instinctively grabbed his hands that were at her chest, and they ended up with Harry falling through an open door with Hermione in his arms.

He landed with an, "Umph!" and Hermione with the same exclamation. Harry, afterwards, would see their position as ironic, as he'd just been studying his friend's behind before, and now it was pressed up against him. This awkward situation seemed to paralyze the both of them, and as they lay there, four heads (all topped with red hair) leaned in the doorframe and looked down on them. Three of them grinned, whilst one watched them with a strange face.

The only girl laughed lightly. "I've stopped crushing on him for half an hour and you pounce? Merlin, you work quickly, 'Mione."

As Hermione came to her senses and struggled to get up (Harry assisting her), the twins shared a look, pointedly looked at Harry, one of them saying, "I ship them so hard!" with a high voice.

Ginny laughed again and turned to walk down the stairs, as did the twins and Ron, who wore a confusing expression. A strange mix of bafflement and jealousy and a little anger was in his features.

When she'd gotten up, Harry took her shoulders and brushed them off. "I'm so sorry, 'Mione, I was trying to listen in . . ."

Hermione laughed and took his hands in hers, put them in between them. She smiled at him widely, saying, "It's fine, Harry, it was an accident."

Something brilliantly light and exciting shot up Harry's spine, and he instinctively squeezed her hands lightly, smiling a bit. "Alright. As long as you're not mad."

Hermione shook her head and let go of his hands. "I'm not. There are worse things to land on."

Harry smiled, his wits coming to play. "And there are not many things better to be landed on by."

At this, she blushed beet red and quickly rushed from the room, leaving Harry with an unusually light feeling in his heart and a skip to his step. This confused him greatly; for less than an hour ago, he'd been ranting at his two friends and had brought Hermione close to tears; and here he was now, blushing like an idiot and trying to figure out what this feeling meant. His confusion was increased as he wondered what had urged him to be as flirtatious as he had been. Where had he gotten that from?

His deep thoughts were once again interrupted, but this time by a wailing from below the railing. It was an older woman's voice, screaming all the pure-blooded bigotry that Harry could imagine. As it began, a man stepped in the door, his hands in his pockets, looking very much normal.

"She's probably screaming because you're tumbling with a Mudblood." Sirius Black deadpanned. "I know you'd buck up sometime, Harry. I just didn't know that you'd approach so strongly. Coming from behind? You've got much to learn."

Ignoring the jibe, Harry grinned widely and jumped forward, enrapturing his godfather in a bone-crushing hug. Sirius chuckled and pulled away, holding out his forearm and motioned for Harry to grasp it with his own. "This is how men greet each other. You're a man now. _Is that right, Hermione_?" He raised his voice to drown out the woman's screaming, hoping that the Muggle-born would hear.

"_What?_" Hermione screamed back. Sirius smiled knowingly and leaned on the doorframe, expecting Harry to blush and stutter and not know what to do.

Instead, Harry blushed, rolled his eyes, and pushed the man through the door all at once. "That was an accident, you prat. Now let's go downstairs. For once, I'm starving."

As his godson jogged down the stairs, Sirius wondered what was going on in Harry's head. His godson's attitude had changed drastically in the last half an hour; he knew he'd been yelling just a while before; all the adults in the kitchen had heard him. At the time, they'd all grown very silent in conversation, with guilt plastered on all their faces (except for a few). And not only that; it seemed that Harry was more confident. Sirius quickly pushed this out of his mind and grinned. If Hermione could make Harry as happy as he was now, he had some manipulating to do.

Harry was already seated next to Hermione who was seated next to Ron at the dinner table. Many members of the Order were still present and seated, having decided that they might as well enjoy Molly Weasley's motherly affections and excellent cooking whilst they were there. Although some of them stayed because Dumbledore had told them to. Specifically, Severus Snape, who could be seen not beholding his normal sneer but instead looking off at the wall, in his own thoughts.

Sirius sat right across from Harry, both of them seated at the end of the long table. Food was quickly served, and soon the party began their feast. Those at the table were the Weasley family (excluding Percy), Remus Lupin, Mundungus Fletcher, Minerva McGonagall and Nymphadora Tonks. Those in the corners of the room were Mad-Eye Moody and Snape.

As the meal went on, Hermione found herself unconsciously scooting her chair closer to Harry, as Ron was making the noises of a drowning pig as he stuffed food down his throat. Harry was eating just as much, but at a steadier pace, and without crumbs spilling from his mouth. Hermione noticed how Sirius would tell Harry stories from his glory days, and how Harry's eyes shown as he laughed. And his laugh – Hermione fell in love with it. It was not loud at all; in fact, it was not above the volume of someone's normal tones, and yet it was clear and crisp, like a baby's first chuckle. But then again, it'd been a long time since Hermione had heard him laugh . . . in fact -

"Hermione. Stop staring at your dessert and focus on your dinner!" Sirius exclaimed loudly. Half the table looked at the fugitive, and then at Hermione. After a pregnant silence during which half the room was waiting for an explanation, Sirius said, "You've been staring at Harry nonstop for the past five minutes!"

The table laughed, but Harry and Hermione just blushed and looked at their plates. Molly Weasley felt bad for the two, and scolded Sirius half-heartedly. Sirius grinned, unable to leave it alone.

"You can taste the dessert later tonight, when no one else is watching." Sirius said in a normal tone. Molly hit him over the head with the Daily Prophet as every laughed again and Snape made a disgusted noise from his corner. Even Moody looked mildly amused, his crooked lips hooked at the end.

"Not in a dirty way, I assure you, Mother! I mean, Molly." Sirius said, earning more chuckles. "Unless you classify snogging as dirty. In which case -" Sirius leaned forward and winked at Harry, "I was a very filthy boy at Hogwarts."

This earned him another hit with the paper and more laughs. Minerva, who'd been quietly talking to Remus and Arthur for most of the meal, snorted. "It's true. I'd be surprised if half the broom closets at Hogwarts hadn't been subject to Sirius's girlfriends."

Everyone, once again, laughed. Hermione joined in this time, happy now that the spotlight was off of her and Harry. But secretly, she liked it when Sirius gave her a knowing look and nodded at Harry, who was still red and staring at his plate.

Remus rolled his eyes from his position next to Sirius. "But where are those girlfriends now, Padfoot? I'd guess their at Mungo's for their mental treatment or in a brothel; especially if they'd decided to go out with you."

The adults laughed, Hermione and Ron blushed and Harry looked confused, but decided it was in his best interests not to pursue the statement. The feast continued as Sirius retorted that his former girlfriends were happily married and not in need of medical attention.

When everyone'd decided that their bellies were filled, the plates were summoned away, and Harry asked the question. "Now, what was that meeting about?"

The room got quiet, but Sirius quickly broke the silence and said, "Voldemort's done basically nothing in the past few months. He wants to lay low, because that's where he's safest."

"Now, really! He isn't of age! He shouldn't be hearing this!" Molly said from the sink.

"He's dealt with more Voldemort than every person in this room, Molly." Sirius said, his eyes narrowing slightly. If he were in dog form, his hackles would have been rising.

"But he's still too young! The adults responsible of him should keep him from hearing anything more than he should!" Molly returned with more anger, throwing her towel on its hook.

"I think he's very well old enough to decide for himself, Molly." Sirius said, his voice slightly menacing.

"He's only fifteen! He isn't ready to make decisions!" Molly hissed back. Harry clenched his fists in his lap, but decided not to say anything so as to not ruin his relationship with his motherly figure. Hermione noticed this and put a consoling leg on his arm. He jumped, looked at her hand, but allowed it to stay there. Hermione was very, very glad.

"Apparently not. He didn't decide to stay in that damn house for eight weeks, nor did he decide to be the one witness for Voldemort's return. Life is full of decisions, they say, but none have fallen to Harry. Only the ones in charge of him. So if you'd stop acting like his mother, Molly, I think you'd learn that he's more of a man than any of the kids you're raising."

Fred and George looked as though they would reply, stopped, looked at each other, and sighed. "He's got a point there, mother." They said simultaneously to their fuming parent. "Right now, you're raising two jokesters, a prick with a stick up his arse and boy who can't keep his shirt clean at meals."

"SHUT IT, BOTH OF YOU!" Molly yelled. Harry had enough and leaned forward, facing the Weasley mother.

"Mrs. Weasley, I really think I'm old enough to make this decision. I know that you really love your family, but right now, you -"

"THAT IS NO WAY TO TALK TO YOUR MOTHER!" She screamed, and now Sirius stood up.

"He's not your son, Molly." Sirius said quietly.

"He might as well be!" She cried. "What have you done for him? Gotten yourself a sentence in Azkaban, you did!"

Sirius growled and made to move towards her, but Remus stood up and forced him to sit as the werewolf said, "Molly, you're in a right state right now. We know you love Harry as a son, but you have to acknowledge what Sirius and Harry have gone through and realize that it's not your decision, but their own."

Molly glared at all of them, still breathing heavily, before closing her eyes and sighing through her nose. Sirius's breathing also slowed to normal.

"I'm sorry, Sirius. And Harry." Molly said. "This is out of my hands."

Harry smiled sadly at her. "Thank you, Mrs. Weasley. I appreciate it."

"You're welcome, dear." She said, pulling a chair next to her husband, who took her hand in apology. "But I'm afraid that I'd like my other kids to leave when you explain this."

A chorus of protest arose from the Weasley children.

"We're of age!" said the twins.

"I want to know!" said Ginny.

"They'll tell me anyway." said Ron through a mouthful of food.

Molly sighed, rubbing her eyes. "Alright. The boys can stay. Ginny, you have to leave."

Ginny groaned in frustration, but got up to go. As she did, she hissed to Hermione, "If you don't tell me everything, I'll -"

"I get it." Hermione said. "I understand."

With that, the girl left the room, leaving Sirius to talk to Harry.

"Like I said, he's lying low. On the night he returned, you weren't supposed to live. But because you did, it's far too risky for him to reveal himself now. And in this position, he could launch a surprise attack at any time because of the ignorance of most people. Specifically, Fudge. Anyway, Voldemort's building up his army. The only way we can combat that is to spread the word of his return, which has proven difficult. And in addition to that, he's after a weapon."

"A weapon? Like a spell, or -"

"That's quite enough, Sirius." Moody and Remus said at the same time.

Sirius looked like he wanted to say more, but he sighed and shrugged. "Can't say much more, really."

Harry groaned. "Thanks for the bloody cliffhanger, you prat."

Sirius smirked. "Don't be insulting me when I have a massive weapon that I'm ready to use against you."

"And what's that?" Harry returned.

"The girl who's hand you're holding right now." Sirius said triumphantly.

Startled, Harry looked down. And indeed, his fingers were intertwined with Hermione's. Embarrassed, they both once again blushed and looked at their plates as those at the table chuckled.

Sirius laughed. "At this rate, I'm surprised Fred and George are the only ones whipping the wands out and using them for magic. I'd have guessed that you're ready to use yours on Hermione."

Tonks, Mundungus and the twins hooted at the joke, while Remus and Arthur both suppressed the smirks. Moody laughed quietly, and Snape once again sneered at the joke, but said nothing; although there was a trace of guilty amusement in his black eyes. Hermione blushed an even deeper shade of maroon, while Harry knit his eyebrows together, not understanding the joke. Why would he cast a spell on Hermione?

"Erm - I think I'm heading to bed." Ron said, his face flushed with what seemed like anger. He got up quickly and left, but not without taking some extra dinner rolls for a snack.

Noticing the confused expression on Harry's face, Sirius grinned devilishly. "By that look, it seems we've got a lot more to talk about that just Voldemort."

"Good night." Hermione said, leaving the kitchen quickly. Harry just kept staring at Sirius as he rose from his seat with the most lost and perplexed look in the world. Sirius walked around the table and patted Harry's shoulder, but before he could open his mouth, Molly smacked him in the back of the head with the Prophet. It seemed like it was playful to stop Sirius from scarring Harry, but Harry thought he saw some anger towards Sirius from Molly.

Judging from Molly's response and Sirius's devious expression, Harry decided that it would be in his best interests to get out of there, and fast. So he did, almost knocking his chair over in the process, too wary to hug anyone in the kitchen goodnight.

As soon he'd left, there was an irritable sigh of relief from the outskirts of the room. Snape stood and went to the door. "I thought you'd let the brats stay in here all night."

Sirius stepped into Snape's path. "Be quiet, Snivellus."

Remus gently pulled Sirius away by his shoulder. "Sirius. You're being immature."

Snape sneered at the booth of them before he left, cloak billowing like a bat's wings. Sirius glared at his back until he was down the hallway and out the door. Remus sighed and sat down at the table again, heavily.

"You two have to stop bickering. This mutual hatred of each other -"

"I don't hate him." Sirius growled, sitting down as well. "His attitude just pisses me off."

"It pisses us all off," Remus replied, grabbing his drink and taking a sip. "But you shouldn't be retaliating. You yourself said that you want to be Harry's legal guardian. A legal guardian, much less a convicted criminal, should act as the better man."

Sirius stayed silent before muttering, "I feel like I'm being lectured by a professor."

Remus rolled his eyes. "You are. Remember?"

Sirius snorted and stood up. "You lasted a year, Moony."

"Still better than Mad-Eye." Remus smirked, gesturing with his cup. Mad-Eye chuckled from his corner before straightening as well as he could with his metal leg.

"You have a good point, Remus. I didn't work, but I got paid; the dream of everyone. I'll see you all at the next meeting." Mad-Eye said, clunking his way out the door.

Slowly, all the guests began trickling away until it was just Sirius and Remus. The latter summoned a cup of coffee for his friend, and they both drank contentedly. Remus soon noticed that Sirius was staring fixedly on the wall, but his eyes were blank and his thoughts were elsewhere.

Remus lowered his coffee from his lips. "What's on your mind, Padfoot?"

Sirius shifted in his seat. "I can't stay in this house. I was stuck in here for my childhood, and now I'm stuck here again, being treated as a child."

Remus sighed slowly. "We'll get you out of here soon. We just somehow need the Ministry to see reason. Sometimes I wonder how this government got so corrupt in the first place."

Sirius nodded in agreement, once again staring at a spot on the wall. That is, until his eyes widened and he choked on his coffee. Remus looked at him with concern, but was placated when Sirius looked at him, a grin on his face and coffee dripping at his mouth.

"I've an idea."

-△⃒⃘-

Fifteen minutes earlier, Harry was just going up the stairs when he was joined by Ginny, who he smiled at. She, too, had grown a lot since fourth year. Her hair was just as straight and long and as red as it had been, but her body had matured. Her baby fat had all but disappeared, leaving her face more defined. Her shoulders were no longer slightly hunched (a popular trait in the tall and skinny Weasley Family), and Harry noticed that she was in fairly good shape, if her slim jeans and thin sweater said anything. But then again, she was nothing compared to Hermione.

With a blush, Harry realized what he'd just thought. He didn't think of his best friend in that way. She was like his sister . . .

"Harry. _Harry_." Ginny said, snapping her fingers in front of his eyes. Harry's head snapped back suddenly, and Ginny was amused. "Day dreaming already? The first sign of love."

Harry blinked. "Hmm?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. Grabbing his hand, she led him farther up the steps, as he had not realized that he'd stopped in his ascent.

"I was saying that you and Hermione look mighty cute together." Ginny said, holding his hand and pulling him along. Harry shook his head quickly.

"No! She's my best friend." He said immediately. Ginny smirked as they reached the landing that their rooms were on. She sighed and pulled him up to the wall. All the others were in their respective rooms. Ginny stepped up close to him, looking up at his face, as Harry was still several inches taller than her.

"You don't know it yet." Ginny said, "But I can see the signs. We all can."

Harry blushed beet red at how close they were. Ginny smiled innocently, before sighing and looking down and put her forehead against Harry's chest. "Truth is, I never got over my crush. I really like you, Harry."

Harry blinked pressed himself against the wall, trying to stutter something out of his numb brain. Everything in his mind had stopped working; now, all the things that were happening were jumbling around and fighting one another.

"But I know that your heart is someplace else. Even I can tell that." She sighed, turning her neck so that her cheek was against his chest. Instinctively, Harry wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight. She looked up at him again, and noticing his eyes were closed, sneakily went up on her tiptoes and pressed his lips against his.

Daring not open his eyes, Harry felt soft skin pressed against his mouth, and his mind went crazier in its frenzy. Within this frenzy, hundreds of questions popped up, but Harry didn't have the mental capacity to even think an answer.

But as she raised her hands to wrap them around his neck and pressed her body closer to his, Harry's mind went blank, and he could only think of the happiness he felt. He noticed a tingling deep in his stomach, and he didn't know what it meant; all he knew was that he was kissing a very cute girl and he was happy about it.

Soon, Ginny turned her head to the other side, and Harry did the same, which pried his lips open. Ginny did the same, and the kiss became more interactive, with Harry just thinking, "I'm making out with a girl."

Tongue did become involved, and Ginny expected more sloppiness from the virginal boy. She herself had snogged a couple boys, but Harry was doing very well, considering he was probably the most ignorant, pure boy in his year. He seemed to be kissing with a purpose, and that made her feel special.

As they continued, Ginny smiled and then giggled into her hero's lips. But her smile soon faltered as she realized what she was doing, so she snuck her arms from around his neck to in front of herself and gently pushed him away from her. He was breathing deeply, and the tips of his ears were red.

With that, Ginny reached forward and hugged him hard. Looking up once more, she whispered, "I'm sorry, but I've wanted to do that for so long."

Harry embraced her back and kissed her forehead, murmuring, "It's fine, Ginny. It's fine. But I should probably go to bed. Big day of cleaning and screwing the Ministry tomorrow."

Ginny smiled. "Yeah. Big day. See you tomorrow. Have a goodnight."

"You, too." Harry said back, his lips feeling large and puffy. Ginny smiled at him again and turned to walk back to the room she and Hermione were sharing, leaving Harry to think about what had just happened.

Shaking his head, Harry turned and pushed open the door to Ron and his room. The redhead was lying perfectly still, arms on his stomach, looking straight up at the ceiling. A little confused by his behavior, (and desperately hoping that Ron hadn't heard or seen anything from what had just transpired) Harry quickly stripped off his shirt and changed his pants. Since his confinement at the Dursley's, he'd gotten into the habit of sleeping shirtless, as he was now used to privacy and hadn't had to worry about a family member barging into the room.

He jumped into his bed and pulled up the covers to his chest and put his arms behind his head, mimicking his friend. They laid there in silence for quite some time until Ron quietly said, "Do you like Hermione?"

Caught off guard, Harry shifted his position a bit and cleared his throat. "Like a sister, Ron."

"Oh." Ron said quietly. There was a pregnant pause. "She's gotten pretty hot."

Harry immediately shifted again, and warning bells went off in his mind. The situation was already making him uncomfortable. "Er – yeah, I guess she has."

Again, there was a very long pause. "She has a nice rack, doesn't she." The format of the phrase was of a question, but Ron had said it like it was a statement. Harry's eyebrows furrowed. His friend was not being very respectful, in his eyes.

"Mmm." Harry replied, in a non-committing way. Ron was satisfied with that answer, and turned onto his side so that he faced away from Harry, and soon long, drawn out snores could be heard from Ron's bed.

Harry breathed out of his nose slowly. The way Ron had thought was kind of disgusting to Harry; even just talking about Hermione's breasts made Harry feel as though he'd betrayed her. Harry had never thought of his female friend in that way before. In fact, he'd not thought about any girl in that way before. It felt as though he were directly violating the women he vaguely thought of.

He rubbed his eyes wearily, his body beginning to rest as his mind ran loose. Had he ever thought of Hermione in that way before? No, he hadn't . . . but had she though of him in that way? For some reason, Harry hoped that she had; and then he immediately erased the thought. They were like brother and sister.

And then there was Ginny. It had been his first snogging, and it made him feel light and happy and on his toes. But he'd never thought of his friend's sister like that; after all, she was a year younger than him. But when they had kissed, Harry had felt older and stronger. And the last time he had felt that was when . . .

Harry shook his head and sat up, glancing at a clock on the wall. It read 10:40. No one would be up, and Harry needed to think. He stealthily waited several minutes so as to be sure that his friend had fallen asleep.

He got out of bed and didn't bother putting on his shirt. He left his room and quietly creaked his way down the steps and into the kitchen. It was dark; the only light on was above the stove, and he couldn't see into the shadows of the corners of the room. His stomach rumbled, and he sighed, opening up the refrigerator and grabbing four brown eggs.

As he cracked and began to cook the eggs in a pan over the stovetop, he reflected on something he hadn't really noticed. Over the past few months, he had been getting hungrier and hungrier. His appetite had grown exponentially, as had his body mass. He had noticed that while he wasn't growing much in terms of height, his shoulders were broadening as time went on.

As he waited for the eggs to cook, he glanced down at his abdomen. Truth be told, he didn't have a definite six pack, but his core was strong from Quidditch; you could see each section of his abdominal muscles were quite defined, and he decided that with a few weeks of core exercise, he could reach a six pack. But under the single kitchen light, it looked like he had one.

He examined the rest of his upper torso, as well. And again, truth be told: he didn't have large pecs. But similar to his abdomen, he was lightly defined, and he judged that with a month or so of training, he could become bigger.

He shook his head, clearing his head, unsure as to why he was thinking these things. As his eggs were almost done, he turned again and grabbed some pieces small chunks of pork and deftly cut them, and placed them onto the egg. Quickly, he reached inside of the fridge again for something greener to put in, and found several pieces of broccoli. Having not tasted a broccoli omelet before, he decided to experiment that day.

The end product was a massive omelet (the size of both his hands) with meat and broccoli within. He grabbed some utensils and sat at the kitchen table and began to eat. As the first bite reached his lips, a chuckle escaped from one corner of the room, and Harry leapt back, toppling over his chair, holding his fork out in front of him like a wand.

Tonks peaked out of the shadows with a bright smile. "Wotcher, Harry. Sorry about that, I'm keeping watch. I got bored of looking out the door's peephole waiting for a snake-faced man to appear."

Harry (breathing heavily) slowly set down his fork. Tonks grinned at him before glancing down at his torso. Harry's cheeks burned with embarrassment, so he sat down quickly and hid himself with his biceps.

Tonks chuckled, her attention now drawn to his thick but sinewy arms. "I can see why girls like you." She said. "You're pretty ripped, and shy about it."

Harry snorted. "Girls don't like me, and I'm not ripped."

Tonks flipped her pink hair, changing its color to blonde as she did so. "Bollocks to that. I can name at least two girls that like you."

Harry shrugged his shoulders, blushing and picked at his food, careful to slouch down so as to hide himself from the Metamorphmagus. Tonks grinned again, promising to herself that she would tell both Ginny and Hermione about this moment.

"I've got two questions, Harry." Tonks said charmingly. Harry grunted in reply, not liking the idea of answering questions.

"Firstly: when did you learn to cook?" She said, tilting her head to the side cutely. Harry shivered as a tingling went up his spine. Since when did he think of Tonks as cute?

"I cooked for the Dursley's until about a year ago. Would you like some?" Harry said, gesturing to his plate. Tonks beamed.

"Sure, my fine gentleman." Tonks said, causing Harry to blush and look down. She walked around the table and plopped down right next to him, her leather jacket brushing against his shoulder, causing his hair to stand on end. He unconsciously shifted away slightly.

Tonks laughed again, summoning a fork and stabbing at a peace of his omelet. "You have so much sexual tension."

Harry blinked. "Excuse me?"

Tonks smiled widely. "Nothing! Next question: what's the deal with Hermione? You two have been acting like Sirius and Jane Abbott." She grinned, remembering the stories Sirius had told during dinner, and grinned wider at what adventures with girls Harry could get in once he was 'properly informed'.

Harry shrugged, eating some more of his omelet, taking out a quarter of it in a few bites. "She's like a sister to me."

"Mhmm." Tonks said, clearly unconvinced. Harry glared at her as he stuffed some more egg into his mouth. Tonks's grin grew. Harry was the most innocent teenager she'd met. He was quiet, humble, and (from what she'd seen at dinner) was almost completely oblivious to what wonders lay in the opposite sex. And, seeing as no one else was likely to, Tonks decided to help him along.

Harry narrowed his eyes at Tonks, who smiled again, and stood up. "Well, I'll be patrolling the street outside. Have a nice nap, Harry."

Harry just nodded suspiciously before going back to his food. But as he did, he wondered about what his feelings were for his friends. Ginny had filled his heart with happiness and made him feel light and ecstatic. But he'd felt that before . . . he just wasn't sure where.

Tonks then went for a hug; but before she did, she decided that it really was time for Harry's training to begin. To her devious pleasure, she used her abilities to make her breasts grow to the size of her victim's head before hugging around Harry's neck. His head turned so that his cheek was pressed up against one of Tonk's enlarge breasts, and he choked and forced his head away as Tonks burst out laughing, not stopping until she was all the way out the door.

Harry touched his cheek, desperately wiping off whatever horrors Tonks's rack might have left on him. To him, girls' behavior was completely random, but today something was strange. Ginny, Hermione and Tonks had all acted very flirtatiously with him. What was up with them, Harry had no clue.

Having finished his omelet and busted his table, he quickly rinsed the silverware and plate he'd used. He then quietly creaked his way back up the stairs and into his room, where he tiptoed to his bed and fell asleep instantly, with happy thoughts such as kissing and Hermione to lull him to sleep. All the things that had happened helped him get through the night without even a trace of nightmare.

As Harry fell into a deep sleep, on the other end of the hallway, Ginny was sitting up against her headboard, smiling to herself and twiddling her thumbs. Hermione was just coming out of the tiny bathroom that the two girls shared with a towel wrapped just above her chest. Ginny watched out of the corner of her eye as Hermione shyly turned and dropped the towel before quickly slipping on underwear and a large t-shirt. Ginny noticed that Hermione had, indeed, matured quite a bit in the physical aspect of things. Her face (completely devoid of baby fat) was perfectly defined, her cheekbones high and her jaw sharp and sexy. She was fairly skinny, but not so skinny that she lost any weight in her assets. Ginny had been trained early to compare herself to other girls, and to her slight dismay, she decided that Hermione's breasts were indeed larger than her own, and that Hermione was the ideal weight when it came to looking amazing but not skeletal or obese.

Hermione turned and noticed Ginny watching. "Erm – Ginny? Do you need something?"

Ginny shook her head quickly and looked at the wall again. The smile came back quickly as she realized that although she wasn't as beautiful as Hermione, she'd still just kissed Harry Potter. "No, no. I'm fine. Just thinking."

Hermione sat in her own bed carefully, her long legs looking flawless out of the corner of Ginny's eye. "What are you thinking about?"

Ginny's smile remained. "Oh, you know . . ."

Hermione rolled her eyes, recognizing the look in her friend's eyes. "Boys. You're thinking about boys."

Ginny turned on her side and bounced on her bed happily a bit. "Yeah! How can you tell?"

Hermione smiled. "The fact that you're smiling like a loon and acting like you've been given a massage."

Ginny tilted her head and smiled wider. "I guess you can say that."

Hermione's interest was piqued now. She'd never really been interested in boys; mostly because of her insecurity with her looks. Specifically, her teeth and her hair. That, and her love of books caused her to shy away from less mature things (like people in her age group) and push her into more mature things (like books).

However, one of those problems had already been fixed the previous year, when she'd had her large incisors shrunk down to ideal size by Madame Pomfrey. And now that she was older, she had begun to curl her hair at the urging of her schoolmates. Unfortunately, this proved uncomfortable for Hermione, and so she'd recently started putting her hair in a ponytail.

But that wasn't the only thing that she'd worked on in the summer. Her parents were slightly worried that her love of books was affecting her health. Because of this, they'd set her up with a personal trainer for a week who would ensure that Hermione's health stayed good. And it worked, in Hermione's eyes. She found that the various exercises (mostly core) made her body more defined and made her feel like a woman. She was now confident in her ability to go swimming in public and other such things.

The one thing that she was very uncomfortable with about growing up was the talk that Hermione's mother had given her directly after the week with a personal trainer. She'd noticed that Hermione's assets were maturing, and also that she was becoming more and more beautiful by the year. She warned Hermione to guard herself well against boys who disrespected her, and urged her to stay away from boys who seemed too immature. And along with that came all the details of sex and puberty and boys and hormones.

Hermione snapped back to the present, studying Ginny. "What happened?"

Ginny shrugged, smiling wider. "Stuff. So, has the upright bookworm Hermione Granger developed any crushes on any boys?"

Hermione blushed, thinking about several boys as a tingle went up her spine. "Not really."

Ginny put her head in a hand and watched Hermione. "Really? I can guess who."

Hermione blushed harder, shaking her frizzly hair. "I don't like anyone."

"The blush and smirk you're trying to hide are betraying you." Ginny said, her smile fading. "I know who you like."

Hermione covered her face in her blankets. She herself wasn't sure who she was crushing on. Ginny smiled and went back to looking at the wall as Hermione felt her doubts creeping in to the edges of her mind. Who did she like? More importantly, what did she like in a boy?

She peaked out from her blankets. "What do you like in a boy, Ginny?"

Ginny turned back to her, happy to answer. "I like boys that are confident, who aren't afraid of going too far. Also, one who's taller than me and strong enough to pick me up and spin me around."

Hermione's heartbeat quickened as she imagined herself in the situations that her friend was describing. She hadn't felt really like a girl until a few months ago, and the words Ginny was saying made her want to go out and profess her feeling to a boy. A boy that was taller than her, strong enough to pick her up, and confident with her . . .

"Ginny, do you have any feelings for Harry?" Hermione asked suddenly, surprised at herself, wondering where it had come from.

Ginny was surprised as well, and turned to her once again. "I'm just getting over my crush of him, and you ask me that?" She said playfully, but meaning every word.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably. "Sorry . . ."

"It's fine." Ginny said. "And what about you?"

Hermione looked up, startled. "What?"

Ginny's smile faded slightly. By her reaction, Ginny knew that Hermione had a deep crush on Harry. It was blatantly shown through Hermione's actions, and by Harry's reaction to Hermione before, she knew that Harry returned those feelings. Now, she herself wondered what she'd been thinking in kissing Harry. He obviously had feeling for Hermione, and yet she'd done it anyway.

Ginny closed her eyes. She knew why. She'd done it because she'd crushed on him all the way up until the present; in fact, she still was. After four years of seeing Harry and not interacting in a romantic way, Ginny needed someone that wasn't a groping, horny boy. One of which had even pressured her into sex in the previous year, when she was only thirteen. And while Ginny could confess that she was engaging in relationships quite early, she also knew where to draw the line. She wouldn't go beyond kissing and heavy petting until she was at least sixteen or seventeen. All of this piled up until she'd broken several hours before and made out with her childhood crush.

"I said, do you have any feelings with Harry?" Ginny stated again, thinking very deeply. Hermione looked at Ginny, wondering what she would say.

"Can I be honest with you?" Hermione said, blushing once more. She wasn't sure if what she was about to say was a good idea, but she'd already made up her mind. She was a teenager, and she had to start taking risks.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Hermione, we're talking about boys. Nothing is off limits."

Hermione breathed deeply. "I think I might have a crush on Harry."

She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping that Ginny wouldn't reprimand her or hate her for it. But when she opened them, Ginny was silently laughing.

"What?" Hermione demanded, a little angry and very confused. "What are you laughing at?"

A minute later, when Ginny had calmed down, she breathed a gulp of air and said, "Of course you like him. I was just wondering if you'd accepted it yet."

Hermione looked like she would retort, and then she blushed. "Is it really that obvious?"

Ginny snorted. "Abso-bloody-lutely. Everyone in this house has noticed. Except for you and Harry."

Hermione groaned and stuffed her face into her pillow, Ginny smiling at her friend. How could she not be happy for her? Of course, Ginny had had a crush on the Golden Boy of Gryffindor for her whole life and up to the present; but she couldn't let that stop her from being happy for her friend. Ginny looked down at her hands. She had to let Hermione have him, or she'd be a terrible friend to her and Harry.

Hermione twisted her neck to look at Ginny, who quickly recovered from her thoughts with a smile. "There's another problem as well, Gin."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Harry likes you."

Hermione shook her head and faced the pillow again. "No, he doesn't. What's so special about me that he'd want?"

Ginny put her hand on her chin in a mock thinking expression. "You've been best friends for years, you've both grown up as Muggles, neither of you are into pureblood extremism, you're both quiet, you're a bloody genius, your breasts are the perfect size, your body is well toned, your teeth have been fixed, I'm about to do something with your hair that will make you irresistible, you're always really kind, and you're really cute in general."

From the outside, it looked like Ginny was complimenting her friend to build up her self esteem; which she was. But behind that, Ginny was letting out her jealousy of Hermione, her frustration in that her crush liked the bookworm more than he liked herself, and the anger that Hermione was so amazing and that the redhead could never beat her in the race that was Harry's love.

Hermione slowly turned her head to the side, looking at Ginny once again. "Ginny. Are you alright?"

Ginny looked down at her hands again, contemplating what she should say. She sighed, saying to herself that she'd already said so much; why not all of it?

"I kissed Harry while you were in the shower." Ginny said, quietly. Hermione was sitting up now, her eyes wide.

"It was for a full minute. A snog session." Ginny continued, her eyes glazing over while Hermione slowly sank in her temporary pride, confused and heartbroken.

Ginny got up and sat next to Hermione, took her hand, and held it. "I still have a crush on Harry, Hermione. A massive one. But I know that you and he were meant to be."

Hermione's eyes began to water as she looked at her friend. Ginny smiled sadly at her. "I kissed him today as a last token of me running after him. I won't do it again, but I'm not going to promise that I won't think about it."

Ginny pulled Hermione in for a hug, which the girl accepted, sniffing. Ginny sighed, resting her chin on Hermione's head. Why did she have to be so moral? If she was more selfish, she could have Harry all to herself and no one would know the wiser.

Hermione let go of the hug, leaning back to look at her younger friend. "What's next, matchmaker Ginny?"

Ginny smiled at her before returning to her own bed. "We show Harry what he's missing out on. We show him how much he really likes you."

-△⃒⃘-

It was 7:30 the next morning when Hermione confidently strode up to the boy's room and knocked, hard.

She was dressed in some of Ginny's jeans (which were made as tight jeans but because they were on Hermione's larger and more developed body, it seemed only tighter) and a white tank-top that she normally wore under several layers of sweaters. But today was different. In fact, any other interactions that she'd have with Harry were to be very different.

Her hair was something that Ginny had woken Hermione up early for, and had been working with different styles for hours. Finally, Ginny had come to the conclusion that Hermione should wear her hair back in a ponytail with a braid on her temple

Listening in, the only thing that Hermione could hear in response to her knock were loud, obnoxious snores. Ginny, who was wearing her normal jeans and a sweater, sighed and rolled her eyes. Taking this as a confirmation, Hermione opened the door, strode in, walked in between the two beds. Using one hand per bed, she snatched the covers over the still forms of the two boys and yanked them towards her.

On one bed, Ron was curled in the fetus position with a full set of red pajamas, snoring still. On the other, Harry lay with a pillow over his face and one of his hands on the pillow, his other hand at his side, clenched into a loose fist. Hermione stared, open-mouthed, at Harry's still, shirtless body. His torso was very well defined, and the skin over his core looked like it had been pulled taught over the muscle beneath. With every slow breath the boy took, his big chest rose and deflated.

Ginny just sighed happily at Harry's body before walking up next to her brother's bed. She leaned in close to his ear before screaming, "Spiders! Everywhere! In my britches!"

Ron flailed awake, his arms sweeping around himself. He sat up immediately, his eyes wide with terror before his temple hit his sister's temple with a meaty, '_thwack!'_. Ginny sat back on her behind, holding her head and groaning as Ron rolled around on his bed in pain.

Harry groaned and sat up slowly as Hermione watched in fascination. As he straightened, his abdominal muscles tightened together to form a taught wall of defined mass, and the pillow slipped off his face. Harry yawned, blinked twice, and finally recognized who was in front of him. He gave an embarrassing sound of surprise before rolling off the bed on the opposite side of where Hermione was standing, crying out, "Bloody hell, 'Mione!

Hermione blushed, hard as she dropped the blankets in her hands. Harry struggled to grab a stray blanket from the ground next to him to cover up his bare chest as Hermione's cheeks continued to flush to a deeper shade of red.

When Harry had wrapped a blanket around him, he stood up and raised both eyebrows at Hermione as Ron looked over (rubbing his head) and sleepily said, "Nice robes, mate. You look like Dumbledore."

Hermione giggled in spite of herself, but went quickly went straight-faced at her guilt of the situation and slowly stuttered, "Erm – I'm sorry, Harry -"

Harry smiled, his cheeks just as red as his female friend's. "It's fine. But I'd appreciate it if you'd turn around."

Hermione whipped around quickly, getting Harry a full view of how her jeans hugged her buttocks. Wiping this from his thoughts immediately, Harry snatched a random shirt out of his drawer of clothes and slipped it on, before walking up and patting Hermione's shoulder. He smiled and whispered, "There are better situations where you can see me shirtless."

A tingle ran up through Hermione's spine as Harry confidently walked out the door. As soon as he did, he let out a sigh of exasperation at himself, smacking his palm against his head, wondering what he'd gotten such a sultry phrase from. Ron would have probably been more annoyed with Harry and Hermione's closeness if he had been more awake; in addition to this, Ginny was talking and distracting him on purpose from the (hopefully) soon-to-be couple.

Harry practically skipped down the stairs with Hermione following slightly behind. He burst forward into the kitchen and greeted the inhabitants (the Weasely's, Remus, Sirius, and Tonks) cheerfully. He plopped down next to his godfather, who sat next to Remus. They both greeted him in kind, but their solemn expressions spoke for them.

As Mrs. Weasley served him a large plate with eggs and fruits and toast, Harry's eyebrows knit in confusion. "What's wrong?"

Remus shifted in his seat to look across Sirius at his godson. Before he spoke, he took some time to take a good look at Harry. He reflected in the privacy of his own mind that Harry had grown quite a bit since third year. He had broader shoulders, a deeper chest, and a bit of stubble from his sideburns down to his chin. He hadn't grown much height-wise, but he made up for that handicap in a well-managed physique.

"Your trial is scheduled for today." Remus said quietly.

Harry narrowed his eyes before he realized what he meant. As the others walked in sleepily, Harry growled. "Why are they even having a trial about this? All it was was underage magic. And even with that, it's still justified."

Sirius sighed. "Even so, the Ministry's never really sparked me as a logical bunch of people."

To that, Harry had to agree. He'd already heard about Minister Fudge's paranoia; that Dumbledore was plotting to become Minister and overthrow him. And while Harry didn't have that much respect for Dumbledore, he had to admit that the old wizard most definitely did not want that power. That coupled with Harry's name being constantly bashed and ridiculed by the Daily Prophet made him very angry and almost excited for the trial that was to come.

As Harry continued to eat, Arthur walked him through what they'd do. Harry only half-listened. He already had a vague idea of what he'd say and do. And it wouldn't require the Headmaster's help.

Breakfast was over quickly, as no one seemed to be in a talkative or festive mood. Harry excused himself and went into his room to change into dark jeans and a button-down shirt he'd found in Dudley's neatly folded clothes that the lump had not used.

Before he left, Ron clapped him on the back and wished him good luck, Ginny gave him a quick hug which Harry had awkwardly returned, unsure of what the kiss meant between them, and Hermione gave him the biggest hug she could manage. And, in addition, she pecked him on the cheek.

Soon, Harry and Arthur were out the door, with Muggle disguises such as a sweatshirt with the hood up so that no one could see Harry's face and, in Arthur's case, a wide-brimmed hat that made him look like a cowboy. Of course, the Muggle enthusiast didn't mind this one bit. In fact, he rather enjoyed it, saying it was the new fashion rave in America.

-△⃒⃘-

A/N: The first chapter. The next chapter will be coming shortly. If you spot any errors, please mention them in the reviews; but I'd also like to say that I would like you to only use the reviews section for long, thought out reviews of how you think the story is coming along. If you spot any major plot holes, please tell me; as I don't have a Beta. Anyway, I'll see you next chapter!


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